Happy Birthday to Yu

We never seem to find a shortage of reasons to go out here. This weekend we were given one more excuse to go out as it was Yu’s birthday. Not wanting to give up one of her best money making nights of the week, she still worked her cocktail shift and the three of us came to pick her up when she was finished. Walking into the posh hotel that she works at I felt severely underdressed until I found out there was a wedding going on, and that’s why where were men in suits and women in gowns. After having been there only one other time on NYE when there was a black tie masquerade ball going on across the street, I was beginning to think this was the norm. Frank assured me that he’s gone into this swanky hotel to get her after a long day of work on the boat, covered in grease and wearing flip flops, so I had no need to feel out of place. After just a few moments though, Yu was grabbing her purse and we all walked out the door, in search for something a little more our style.

Picking our regular spot we began the walk to Scarlett’s, and if I thought it was busy the last time we went on $0.50 wing night, I was sorely underestimating the bars in this college town on a Saturday night. Standing in line and paying cover for the opportunity to listen to the band playing inside, we walked through the crowded porch and into the even more clustered restaurant. Grabbing the first table we saw, as it was also the only available one, we sent the guys to the bar to pick up beers and struggled to have a conversation over the deafening music we had just paid to hear. Watching the other tables we sprang up and got one on the other side of the stairs, where the staircase was blocking the sound, as soon as it vacated. While drinking our beers in now relative peace and quiet, Frank made Yu promise that even though it was her birthday, she wouldn’t go overboard that night. Even though I’m sure we all have intoxicated alter egos, Yu’s is so destinctive that they’ve even given it a name, Me. I like to see alter egos, so my new goal was to keep her glass full all night. But since none of Yu’s other friend’s had shown up to Scarlett’s yet and drinks were still a little overpriced relative to other bars in the area, we paid the tab and hit the street again, in search of a cheaper watering hole.

I feel we might be becoming too predictable in our old age now, as the next place we hit up was the White Lion, the place we went the first time we met Frank and Yu. Again, having initially gone there on a weeknight during Christmas break, the scene when we walked up this time was completely different than the last time we left it. There was music blaring, strobe lights flashing, and not enough room to even walk without squeezing between piles of people. Once more we managed to find the one empty table in the restaurant and grabbed it, although we had to move about 15 beer bottles and plastic cups out of the way first. Matt and I sat while Frank and Yu disappeared. When we didn’t see either of them again for ten minutes I was beginning to think they had been abducted by crazy kids with glow sticks, but soon after he returned with a pitcher of beer, and Yu came back bringing a few guests to add to the table.

While Yu was talking to her friends, Frank and I were chatting about college kids now versus when we were in college ten years ago. This bar seemed to have a pretty wide diversity of girls dressed up like they were about to head to five star restaurants, and others that looked like they rolled out of bed and grabbed clothes off the floor. In that mix were two girls wearing black dresses that had great detailing on the back, and I instantly fell in love with. Even though I would have no use for them I desperately wanted one or something like it, so after a little encouragement from Frank I actually got up from the table and walked over to them. Tapping one of the girls on the shoulder I fumbled out “Hi, I just want to tell you I love your dresses. My friend over there is a fashion designer (not false), and I’d love for her to make me something like this. Would you mind turning around so I could get a photo?”. I don’t know if this happens to them often, but the girl was not phased. Nudging her friend she goes, “Turn around, this girl wants a picture of our dresses”, to which they both stood with their backs to me until I got the photo. Now I just need to make sure I actually do get one of these dresses made and sneak it on the boat without Matt knowing.

Through one more pitcher of beer we sat around the White Lion and joked about how it would be fun to get dressed up one night and go around town. I don’t even know how the conversation ended up here, but the dress up we were talking about turned out to be more Halloween like. Each of us would pick some kind of character completely different from each other, and completely mismatched we’d wander around town to see how many strange looks we could get. Already beginning to form our characters it was decided that Frank would grow a nice mustache, plop on a sombrero, and go out as Pedro. Matt would be going back to his French-Canadian roots by also growing a nice mustache, a curlycue one, wearing a beret and calling himself Jacques. I was rooting for Francois, but he didn’t seem to want to budge on that one. Yu and I thought very hard about who we could be, and almost peed our pants with the results of some of our ideas. Should this ever come to fruition, I think it will be one of the best nights ever.

Getting away from the crowds after our second pitcher we walked next door to No Name Bar. They had a nice outdoor patio where we gathered with our beers, me trying out a new Killer Whale Cream Ale, and getting to see a little glimpse of Me. I knew shoving all that beer in her face would eventually pay off. I don’t know if my alter ego or just my business side was popping out for a minute, but I grabbed a magic marker from the bar and desecrated the table next to us with our logo. To be fair, I was far from the first person to do it. Through only one beer and lots of laughter, we closed the place down and took to the cobblestone streets on the way back to the car, still planning our dress-up party. As other patrons were also making their way home the only sounds they could hear ringing from the street were shouts of “Jacques..”, “Francois..”, “Jacques..”, “Francois…”.